Embers, Pain and Still Warm Tea
by Marauder Athene
Summary: Erik is coming back to drop off a letter... That's it... But someone is awake.
1. Chapter 1

Embers, Pain and Still Warm Tea

This is the first time he's been to that house since that day before they left in the jet. Before he knew what would become of his already broken life. Charles…. It would be nice to see him again. But what would he say to him? The things that happened that day he left could never be undone. And never forgiven, in his eyes. And as those same steely-gray eyes roamed over that familiar house, a small shiver ran down his spine. To be back here felt safe, but he felt unwanted. He hoped he could even enter the house without incident. He knew Charles wouldn't know he was there, as he was wearing his remarkable helmet. But one of the others could be awake and stop him. Then again, it was late at night. He wanted walk in, leave his note, and walk out. He would leave it by Charles' favorite chair; perhaps under the chess board, then he might not find it for awhile.

Erik strode up to the door and undid the lock with his powers without a sound and entered. He walked down the friendly hallway as if walking in a memory. He saw the many interesting things on the wall left by Charles' past ancestors; coat of arms, swords, masks, china cabinets… there's the one Banshee broke the glass of when practicing his power in the hall. Charles had put his face in his hand with a smile and a laugh and waved it off saying that he should probably practice outside next time.

He half-smiles in that distant way. To go back to those times when everything seemed so serious, but really it was the most care-free he had been in his whole life. Save the lovely night when he was a boy- No! That must not enter his mind. He had become strong now. He didn't need that memory anymore. Especially since it was unburied by-

He shakes his head and keeps on walking. He turns the corner, almost at the sitting room and stops. The fireplace is lit. The bright embers flicker off the wall and then his eyes as he enters the room mechanically with his lips slightly parted. He knows who lit it. And there he is, just sitting there as he ever had been. Sitting calmly reading a book- most likely something scientific; he didn't bother to look- with a blanket over his legs.

Erik just stood in the doorway with his hands lax at his sides, watching him. Charles moved his hand to the side table for his tea, lifted it to his mouth and just smelled it. A small smile came to his lips as if in a memory. The tea was still too hot to drink so he moved to put it down but stopped. Erik was watching Charles' hand first, then went back to his face and his adrenaline raced when a troubled look came into the other man's eyes. When it reached his forehead and mouth, the tea dropped and the cup shattered. Erik took half a step back in near-fright, dreading what his old friend might say to his being there. In this flash-thought, Charles snapped his head to the door with his mouth open.

"Erik!?" His strangled yelp echoed a little down the hallway and they both jumped a little.

Erik breathes in then out. "Hello Charles. I didn't expect to find you awake. I'm sorry for intruding. I just wanted to leave this letter." He waves the envelope carelessly as though seeing his close friend and now- he supposes- enemy had no effect on him at all. But Charles knows better. A comforting smile tries to break out, but memories flooded back into the room and it fades to seriousness.

"I see. So you're _not_ here to try and convert my students to your ideas of justification."

A playful smiles crosses Erik's face "Charles, I'm wounded. I would never try to take your children away from you. Plus they probably have your ideas so integrated into their minds by you that they would never be swayed." Charles sighs and a thought enters his mind to simply try and be as they were before if only for a few minutes. He gestures to the chair.

"Won't you sit down, my friend? I would like to reminisce of times before that day."

"Actually, I was just thinking that we should go for a walk. Get your coat, shall I?" He starts to walk to the closet around the corner when he catches the look on the other man's face. "What's the matter? I remember you much spryer than that and never one to turn down a round about the garden. Especially when you have the chance to wear your favorite scarf." He uncharacteristically winks and goes to the closet to get out Charles' coat and scarf. The tiny place smelled of him; the whole house did as a matter-of-fact. A cracked voice called to him from the other room.

"Erik….." As said man's head popped back in the room Charles looks up resolutely. "I can't get up." Erik's eyebrow rises.

"Can't you tear yourself away from your sitting room and books for a few moments? Come on. I'll carry you if I have to. You're coming outside."

Without missing a beat: "You'll have to if you're that desperate…." Looking down, he continues. "I mean…. I _can't_… get… up."

Erik looks at him confused, trying to understand what the _hell _Charles is talking about. Then it hits him. Or rather, he remembers it hitting Charles…. In the back. "You….. You can't-"

"Yes." His hands are folded in his lap and a poker look set on his face.

The other man blinks and then looks frustrated. "Stop playing with me Charles. It doesn't do you well to make jokes." He walked quickly to Charles' side and grabs his arm to pull him up. He hears a frantic 'Erik!' come from the man's lips but pays it no heed. He yanks his arm roughly and pulls him out of the chair. To Erik's surprise, his friend falls to the ground with a grunt. That day…. At the beach…. It must have done more damage than he originally thought.

"Charles!" he wraps his arms under him and keeps him up. "I…. I did this…."

Charles moves his hand quickly to Erik's shoulder. "No, my friend! You did not mean to do this. Do NOT put the blame on yourself."

Erik picks Charles up and puts him back in the chair. "Charles, the fact is that it IS my fault, whether you say it is or not." He tries to straighten up and his arm is caught and he is pulled to look his friend full in the face.

"No, Erik! It's not! I'll not have you thinking that! The only thing you did wrong that day to me was leave!" Both men are shocked by these words. Charles wants to look away but can't. Erik is trying to find that deep, painful guilt inside him that will force him to leave, but all he can think about is that Charles looks like he's about to cry. Charles lets go of Erik's arm and reaches down to pick up his blanket to give himself something to do. Erik doesn't move for a second, then blinks and leans over to get Charles' book for him that got flung a short ways away and hands it to him. "Thank you." Charles says in a half-flustered, half-curt way.

That deep pain floods in. Unknowingly, to them both. Erik takes out his letter, walks to the chess board- funny that it doesn't seem to have been moved since he had last been there- and slips the envelope under it.

"Good bye, Charles." He says quickly, "Sorry about your tea." He walks to the door at a quick pace.

Charles bursts "Erik…" Erik stops, not turning around. Charles has 'don't leave me again' just behind his lips but sighs instead. "Good bye, my friend. You'll always have a place here." He speaks these words knowing that they could never be true. Erik hesitates half a second and walks out leaving the only true friend he's ever had with a pain in his shoulder and heart and a spilled and broken cup of still warm tea.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's the letter you were waiting for. This is the first GOOD fanfiction I've finished. Get the tissues ready.**

The Letter and a Sigh

By Trudy Harris

Charles had told Hank to simply leave him there in his armchair to read the previous night and then come to get him the next morning. He had done so, but Charles had not known that his night would be interrupted. He woke to sounds of life in the mansion. Sitting up in his chair, he made sure to wipe his still wet eyes before Hank entered the room. It would not do to have his young student know he hadn't gotten but one or two hours of sleep before morning. He wouldn't let him stay down there anymore.

Hank walked in pushing the wheelchair before him. "Good morning, Professor!" He said cheerfully. "Have a nice time down here."

Charles faked a joyful face sleepily. "Yes, of course," he lied "I always sleep wonderfully by the fire." Hank smiled, buying it, and rolled the chair over to him. Charles looked at it and sighed 'How did it come to this?' Before he could answer himself and make himself even more depressed he let Hank help him into that darn contraption. The scientist, thinking Charles was upset over the fact of the hassle of getting in and out of the chair, says happily, "Don't worry about it Professor. You get the hang of it. And if you get too frustrated with it, I could try to come up with a lift to put you in it with a remote."

Charles laughs genuinely. "Oh yes, that would be quite dignified. A mechanical arm lifting me like a mother lifts her child into a highchair. Thank you Hank, but no; I'll get used to it." He settles into the seat with a grunt and sighs again with a smile. "Now, I know I've been down here all night, but I believe I'll continue reading until breakfast is ready. Thank you for bringing this down for me, my friend."

"Any time, Professor." With that, he walks away, leaving the man with his thick mask of happiness to chip it away again. Looking out the window, Charles sighs once more. He is abruptly brought back to reality, however, when he remembers the previous night and the whole reason for his old friend's visit.

In desperate, inexperienced jerks that nearly topple him over, he wheels over to the unused chessboard and lifts it. He hadn't been able to get to it last night as he had curled up in his armchair as best he could and had a good, long cry. All night. With the tea still in the carpet(it was a miracle Hank hadn't seen it). And his scarf laying on the opposite chair where it had been left. Charles had wished at least fifty times that night that it would disappear since it had been thrown there by- No! Stop it! That's silly and childish to think in that way! Just because he had left it there does not mean that it was the embodiment of the last person that touched it.

The letter was lying there innocently. Just looking at it you wouldn't think about all the terrible, wonderful…. terrible things it could contain. Charles reached out his hand and picked it up. It shone and oozed in his hand. It was something he desperately wanted to read, and yet he dreaded opening that small white envelope. But he does.

He slides his fingers under the flap to open it and takes the paper out. He unfolds it with trembling and read:

_ Dear Charles,_

_ Please do not be alarmed by receiving this letter. I mean you no further harm than I have already caused you. I simply wished to speak to you without interruption. I am not sorry about my decision, but I AM sorry for the pain; both physically and emotionally._

_ My Friend, I'm not sure how to put this beyond a simple phrase, but I will do my best. You are my closest friend- the dearest soul to me in this world. We have trained, fought, played, laughed and dreamed together. I never imagined our dreams would split ways…. I wish things could have gone differently; that we could have stayed where we were and not have to fight against each other except in chess(of which I dearly miss. Raven is terrible at it. Really Charles, you should have taught her better)._

_ You have stolen something from me. Something I'm not sure I wish to have returned. Perhaps I have turned this cold because you have it in your possession. Sometimes I can't breathe, Charles. I want to turn back and have you by my side once again. But I know that can never happen. Even if all this ended…. Even if everything came together and our work was completed, I could never come back to you knowing what I've done. What pain I've put you through. Plus, I'd be a bloody dog, coming back home to the familiar yard. Maybe if I come back, you should have a doghouse made for me._

_I'm picturing you smiling or laughing at this. How is that making me feel better….? I miss you, Charles. I'm sure you're wondering why send this and have all this meaning behind it and not come back. Well, I'm not coming back for another reason, perhaps not because you would reject me as a friend or even a teacher at your lovely new school; but as something more. I'm saying all this because of something I owe to you. I'd like to steal something from you as well, but I'm not sure I can. Your heart, Charles. I'm sending you this letter because you deserve to know that I love you. That being said, you can understand how much it hurt to leave you. I am sorry._

_Your friend till our blood goes as cold as the chains that bind us,_

_Erik Magnus Lehnsherr_

Charles dropped the letter you his lap and put his face in his hands. He didn't know how long he wept, but it wasn't long enough to let our all the pain and longing that grew in his now stolen heart. After a time, he wiped his tears and wheeled himself over to the window, the letter still laying on his useless legs. As he stared out to his grand estate, he sighed once again and sent a booming thought out to a mind he could no longer reach: 'I love you too Erik. Till my blood goes cold.'

**Cry everyone. Just cry. You know you want to, if you haven't already.**


End file.
